


Home and Heart[h]

by ashtopop



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Healing, References to Illness, Solas is a hypochondriac, and is also terrified of Lavellan getting sick or hurting herself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 06:07:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4210896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashtopop/pseuds/ashtopop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I headcanon that Solas A) knows healing spells only in theory and after extensive reading because the Inquisitor’s (to him) imminent mortality is terrifying and B) he’s a huge germaphobe/hypochondriac who’d never been sick before so every time he gets the sniffles he’s pathetic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home and Heart[h]

The Dread Wolf knows no healing spells. He was no ladarelan'elgar, after all. His magic had always burned off the plagues and general sickness that infected the poorer classes and physical hurt could only be wrought by another god.

The first time he caught a cold he almost died. Died. How far he had fallen.

The old methods, ones he’d learned during the revolution from slaves who’d never had access to their magic, still worked. Tree bark for pain and washing and wrapping for cuts. He learned to flash boil his water with magic before drinking it and magic his bedroll against spiders.

But still he had never learned to be terrified of mortality until her.

She held his might in the palm of her hand and it had almost killed her. When she woke in Haven he was already stacks deep in healing theory. Almost none of it applicable, but all of it readily absorbed. It would be his task, he knew, to keep her alive until his work was done. He never expected how alive she was, though.

Her spirit burned—she met the world head on, her tongue and mind sharp. He had expected a Dalish to be foolish, easily lead, but she surprised him at every turn. Their minds were similar in a way he had not expected, but their opinions were not. She extended a hand to the dwarves, the humans, the qunari and the elves of alienage and aravel alike and, in turn, he ate out of the palm of her hand with all the rest. She played the Game like elvhen royalty and Diamondback like a dwarven smuggler.

He had expected her to be foolish, but he had not expected it from himself.

Alexius’ magic. Closing the Breach. The rift at Adamant. The regular tumbles of exploring the wilderness. She was in danger at every turn, and he was very much in danger of falling in love with her. He devoted himself to healing magic. For every bruise and scrape, no matter how superficial, he appeared at her side. He left her elfroot balms and potions and made poison antidotes on the off chance they might encounter the rare Nevarran mountain spider. He made sure she drank enough and ate enough and slept enough (often taking her watch). He slipped fire runes into her bathing supplies so she wouldn’t get too cold. He lectured her unfallingly about not jumping from Dorian’s library landing to the painting platform and not jumping down mountains or strange, dark holes in caves on the Storm Coast. 

He lectured her until she kissed him, just to make him stop talking.

His heart. It terrified him that such an important organ might reside within someone else, and that she was so fragile. But the people needed him as much as he needed her, so he gave her a castle—one with thick walls and no nearby mountain she could dump on it to irrationally sacrifice herself with—and when he found her asleep on his couch he carried her upstairs and covered her with furs.

He would give her the world and he would give her freedom, but for now he contented himself with the small, warm puffs of breath on his cheek and the upturned lips of a happy elf holding the heart of an elvhen god captiv[ated]e.

**Author's Note:**

> I headcanon that Solas A) knows healing spells only in theory and after extensive reading because the Inquisitor’s (to him) imminent mortality is terrifying and B) he’s a huge germaphobe/hypochondriac who’d never been sick before so every time he gets the sniffles he’s pathetic. Also, I see him as someone who researches anything they don’t understand until they feel they sufficiently grasp it, then they try to apply that knowledge.
> 
> ladarelan'elgar - spirit healer
> 
> The title/last line are a shout out to Lord of Tricksters (and the meaning of vhenan, I guess) by keeperlavellan which I love.


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